


Hetalia Monday Challenge - August

by LukaTheSelkie



Series: Hetalia Monday Challenge 2020 [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukaTheSelkie/pseuds/LukaTheSelkie
Summary: The violence warning is for ONE chapter. That chapter is marked twice.Cross-posted from Tumblr
Relationships: Austria/Denmark (Hetalia), England/France/Sweden (Hetalia), Finland/Germany/Japan (Hetalia), France & Sweden (Hetalia), Mentioned Denmark/Prussia/Canada (Hetalia), OC/France (Hetalia), OC/South Italy (Hetalia)
Series: Hetalia Monday Challenge 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883227
Comments: 10
Kudos: 6





	1. Music is the language of feelings - Sort of SuFra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The week before this wasn't fun mentally. I had been depressed over... something that will soon become clear. This week’s topic lined up too perfectly not to use it as a vent for what I had been feeling. Sweden and I are so much alike, I love using him as my main vent character. Even when it’s something as serious as this.  
> Pairings: I guess there’s a lead up to SuFra in the future? This isn’t really focused on a relationship though.  
> Trigger Warning: Sexual assault. Yeah. I said it was dark. There’s not any detail behind it, but it’s definitely mentioned. There’s reassuring words not too long after though. This was written to help comfort myself, and anyone else that might need to hear those words.

Berwald stares blankly at the water in the pool. He's sitting at the edge, his legs below his knees submerged in the lukewarm liquid. There's music blaring nearby, but nothing besides noise registers in his mind. Someone swims up to him, and he lifts his head up to look at whoever it is. Of course it's Mathias. "Join us, Berry! We're about to play Marco Polo!" He shakes his head meekly. Mathias frowns deeply, and pulls himself up onto the concrete next to him, splashing him a bit by accident. "What's wrong?" Berwald scowls at him.

"Du g't me w't," he comments quietly. Mathias furrows his brows in confusion. "You love my pool parties. What happened?" "N'thing," he answers, too quickly. The Dane opens his mouth to speak, but someone calls to him from the water.

"Mathias, we're starting with or without you! Leave Berwald alone, he's not feeling well today." He gives Tino a grateful look. The Finnish man nods slightly toward him, before turning his attention back to Mathias. "C'mon! We aren't waiting! Send Berwald in for some medicine if you're that concerned." Gratitude washes over him. He knew telling Tino first was the right thing to do, even if it had drained him.

"Go get you some medicine. I hope you feel better soon!" He slips back into the pool, curiosity satisfied. For the moment. Berwald stands sluggishly, and stumbles into the house. He gets a few concerned looks from the ones inside, but thankfully no one stops him to ask anymore questions. He sighs in relief when he's in the room he'll be staying in for the night, and can no longer hear the music from outside. It had been giving him a headache. Too upbeat. He tosses his glasses haphazardly on the night stand, hoping that helps his head a bit.

The thought of music reminds him of a song Tino sent to him to maybe help him express how he's feeling. He curls up in his blanket, and sighs heavily. He turns the song on, tears already threatening to fall. He puts it on half volume, not wanting anyone to walk by the door to the room and hear it. He isn't ready for anyone else to know yet. It's still registering in his mind, honestly. He places the phone by his head, and closes his eyes tightly. This causes his tears to fall, but he doesn't care anymore. He is alone. He can be weak when he's alone. It's the only time it's safe to, especially about... this. He hates admitting it to even himself, how is he supposed to tell everyone he's close to? _With time,_ Tino's voice repeats in his head. That time can't come fast enough. He knows he'll have a support group once he shares. It's not about the fear of being blamed. But saying he's been... it's too much for him. He takes a deep breath, and forces himself to think it, no matter how much it hurts. Sexually assaulted. How had he let himself be sexually assaulted? By a human, no less! He shudders, skin crawling uncomfortably. That's enough, for the moment.

The song restarts, and he focuses on it this time. (link [here](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DA55d5dhsReg&t=ZDE5ZjAyOTBlYzcxOWRjMmExMDQzNzM1NjNkY2RhZTNjMGRhYmZiZCw0ZTlkMDhmMTkyZmJiNTI5N2U3ZTAxMzZmZjcyMmYwOWYwMWZkYmZm&ts=1596511000)) His walls break completely, and he lets himself cry freely as he listens. It's not perfect, but the song expresses what he's feeling so much better than he can. And more accurately, too. It's easier to listen to someone else's experience and relate to it than come up with his own. At this stage, anyway. He hopes to come up with his own, one day. But for now, this is all he can handle. He pauses it when it ends, and takes a deep, shaky breath. He lets it out through his nose slowly, willing his tears away. "I'm m're th'n m' b'dy," he mumbles to himself. His head hurts even more now, so he decides to actually get some medicine. He shoves the blanket off of himself, and stands. He freezes when he turns toward the door. He's not alone. He hurries to wipe at the tears streaming down his cheeks, but he's certain Francis heard everything.

"Berwald," he whispers. "I- Berwald, I-" He bows his head quickly. "Here," he holds out a cup of water and some medicine. Berwald assumes Mathias sent him to make sure he actually takes some medicine. He almost always fights taking anything, so it makes sense. He takes the items, and swallows down one more than the instructions say. He places the two containers on his nightstand, and sits on his bed. He motions for Francis to sit next to him. He **really** wants to tell him to leave, but that's not fair to him. It's not his fault he walked in on that. He steps toward him hesitantly. He nods reassuringly, until he finally sits next to him. There's a heavy silence between them for at least five minutes, Francis fidgeting the entire time. Unable to take it anymore, he says something. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm here to listen, if you want to talk about it. Or cry on, if you don't want to talk but want to let it out. And I want you to know it wasn't your fault. It wasn't. No matter what you tell yourself. It will never be your fault. Understood?" A lump forms in Berwald's throat, and he nods.

"T-tack." He closes his eyes, and lays his head on Francis' shoulder. He scoots closer, and wraps his arms around him. His body starts to shake, and in a matter of seconds he's crying into Francis' hair.

"Let it out. I'm right here. And I won't leave. I promise." He brings his hand up, and runs it through Berwald's hair cautiously. He wants to comfort him, but he doesn't want to touch a spot that will remind him of what happened. He seems to receive it well though, so he considers it a safe thing to do. "Of course you're more than your body, Berwald. That shouldn't even be a question. Your body is what matters the least to the people that care about you. They care about _who_ you are, not what you are. Every bit of who you are." Berwald pulls him closer. "Even your flaws. The people that care about you love everything about you. _Especially_ your flaws. No matter how little or how large. Caring about those is more important than caring about the good things about you. It shows we love you _with_ them, not despite them. After all, you wouldn't be Berwald if you didn't have everything you currently do. And if this changes you, we'll deal with it. We will accommodate for it. Anyone that doesn't... Well, you're worth more than their time, anyway. It won't be because of anything you did. If someone does that, it's on them. Not you. Absolutely none of this is because of you. Do I have permission to hug you?" Berwald sobs loudly, then nods. Francis hugs him tightly with one arm, running his hand through his hair even more.

~

When he's thoroughly lost track of time and Berwald has been silent for a long time, Francis carefully releases his hold on the man. He doesn't react, which makes him think he might be asleep. He pulls away just enough to look at his face. His eyes are indeed closed, and his breathing is rather even. He smiles to himself, and kisses him on the forehead. "I'll protect you," he whispers to him. "I promise." He lays them down in the bed, being careful of Berwald's phone. "Sleep well. I love you," he kisses the top of his head. "Maybe I'll get to tell you that soon." But, for now, both of them have a different thing to worry about. He may have volunteered to bring Berwald some medicine so he could finally tell him his feelings for him, but the moment he heard the song he knew he wouldn't be doing that. "Your comfort is more important," he mumbles out. "I will tell you eventually, but I won't let myself until I feel you've recovered enough to stop blaming yourself for this. I'll help you get there." He nuzzles him, then sighs quietly. In the silence, he can hear the music from the party. "'Might Tell You Tonight' by Scissor Sisters. How ironic." Music truly is the language of feelings.


	2. Music is the language of feelings - FinGerPan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Triangle poly pairings this time! FinGerPan, and mentioned DenPruCan  
> Warnings: Alcohol mentioned briefly, a makeout session, lots of sexual stuff, but no actual sex. I can’t believe my ace self made something this risky 😂  
> (Kiku’s accent is PRECIOUS. Though I don’t feel like I did him justice 😭)

Tino flushes slightly when Kiku places a hand on his thigh. He sends a half hearted glare at him, glancing around the meeting room to make sure no one else knows what’s happening. Once he’s certain the action has gone unnoticed, he lays his head on Kiku’s shoulder to quietly scold him. “What do you think you’re doing? You know we’re both going to be incredibly embarrassed if anyone sees your hand there.” There’s a gentle squeeze from Kiku.

“No one wirr notice. Rudwig won’t ret them.” TIno laughs softly. He doesn’t want to know what Kiku knows about Ludwig to be able to blackmail him like that,—it’s definitely blackmail, there’s a gleam in his eyes—but he’s thankful for it.

“If you’re sure,” he hums out, straightening himself back into a sitting position. He places a hand on top of Kiku’s, and focuses his attention back on the meeting. Most everyone looks bored, as it’s been going for a few hours, but it’s close to the end. A few of them even come out of their imagined worlds to stare at the clock. Gilbert looks the most excited. Tino isn’t quite sure why he comes to the meetings anymore, but figures it’s to help him feel included.

“Dismissed,” Ludwig _finally_ says, causing most everyone to jump up.

“Vait guys! Everyone ist invited to a party at mine und Ludvig’s house!” The younger German sighs, but doesn’t complain. They must have talked it over already. Good to know Gilbert doesn’t always do without thinking first. Tino was starting to wonder.

“Yeah! Party!” Mathias tosses an arm over Gilbert’s shoulder. Tino rolls his eyes slightly, smiling at his antics. He looks over at Kiku apologetically.

“Mathias is likely going to drag Lukas, Emil, Berwald, and I to the party. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I don’t think I have much of a choice.” Kiku smiles sweetly at him, and brushes a strand of hair behind his ear.

“I don’t mind coming with. We can sneak off to be arone together.” Tino’s face lights up. That sounds wonderful. Suddenly, he’s excited for this party.

~

Kiku takes Tino’s hand and leads him to a quiet room a decent distance away from the blaring music. They can still hear it, but it’s more of a background noise now. Kiku spins around Tino, laughing, and they launch into a dance that doesn’t match the upbeat music from a few rooms away. But they don’t care. They’re with each other, and that’s all that matters at the moment. Except… They both feel like something is missing. Tino is the first to voice it. Well, this time. It’s a conversation they’ve had in the past. The context changes depending on the situation they’re in, but the main point never differs. “I wish we had a third person to dance with.” Kiku smiles sadly at him, and leans in to kiss his cheek.

“I do too.” He presses their foreheads together, sorrow flitting around in his chest. He knows Tino feels it as well, judging by his stiffness. He always goes stiff when he’s thinking about this. “We wirr find someone.” He gives him a reassuring smile. Tino smiles back at him, but it’s not as confident as his boyfriend’s. “Maybe we can find someone here.”

“You really think so?” He perks up, smile brightening a bit. They’ve both wanted to add a third for so long. He furrows his brows slightly. “But who?” Kiku presses his lips to Tino’s lovingly, trying to stop him from overthinking.

“We don’t have to worry about that right now,” he whispers when he pulls away. “Ret’s just dance together. I have a srow dance song prayrist on my phone. I made it just for us.” Tino’s chest warms with happiness. He grabs Kiku’s hand and squeezes it.

“That sounds absolutely amazing, Hani muru (Honey crumb).” The shorter man blushes, and hurries to pull out his phone. He places it on the floor nearby, and starts the playlist. They’re all slow love songs, and they both love every second of dancing together to them. Even if neither is very confident in his dancing abilities. Each and every lyric is special to them.

When the playlist ends, they’ve gone from elaborate dancing to slight rocking while staring deeply into each other’s eyes. At least an hour has passed, if not two, but the sudden lack of their music reminds them of the party happening beyond their personal bubble. The music is still going, though it’s much more relaxed than it was when they started the songs that drowned it out. Kiku picks up his phone, frowning a bit at his battery percentage, and pockets it. Tino wraps an arm around his waist and kisses the top of his head. “That was wonderful. Thank you for tonight. I’ll never forget it.”

“I wirr cherish it forever.” Tino smirks, a thought coming to mind. “What’s that rook for?”

“We could make it even more of a night to remember, you know.” He lightly flicks Kiku’s waistband, causing him to flush crimson. “Only if you want to, of course.” A quick nod is all it takes for him to pick his lover up and press him against the wall, kissing him needily. Kiku wraps his legs around his hips, and tangles his hands in his hair. Tino’s hand finds its way under the fabric of his shirt, and he gasps when he feels fingers brush over his nipples. This gives the taller of the two an opportunity to shove his tongue into his mouth, which he gladly takes.

The wall they’re on shifts, and they realize too late it’s actually a door. They tumble out into the hall, on top of someone. Kiku squeaks indignantly, blushing even harder at the warm, broad chest now pressed against his back. Tino pulls away from the kiss slightly to see just who interrupted their makeout session, scowling a bit. His expression quickly turns to an apologetic one when he sees Ludwig beneath them. He hurries to scramble off of them, tugging Kiku up with him. “Mr. Germany!” The dark haired man yelps, hiding his face in Tino’s chest. He wraps his arms around him protectively, eyes narrowing.

“Why aren’t you watching your brother? You wouldn’t want him getting too drunk.”

“I could say ze same zing about jou vith Mathias!” There’s still shock on his face, but at least he mostly has the blush under control now.

“Berwald is watching him.” _Your move_ he says with his eyes, clinging tighter to Kiku.

“Berwald got drunk und passed out an hour ago. I zink Mathias vas driving him mad. Lukas is vatching Arthur, Gilbert, und Mathias now. Vhat are jou two doing, making out in my study?” Is that where they were? Tino hadn’t bothered to look around. He was too enchanted by Kiku. He huffs slightly, shaking his head.

“We escaped from the party when it first started. It’s nicer here. Berwald passed out? I have to tease him about that later!” Ludwig furrows his brows slightly. He runs a hand through his hair out of habit to fix it, and Kiku notices he looks a bit more disheveled than usual.

“Zat doesn’t answer my question as to vhy jou vere making out.” Tino’s anger comes back, but he doesn’t let it show. Much.

“Be glad you came in when you did. A minute later, and you would have seen more.” Kiku whines loudly, embarrassed. He whispers into his love’s ear, as quietly as he can.

“Don’t terr him that! And don’t ret me think about that. I used to want him to make me scream until I went hoarse.” He raises his brows, glancing up at Ludwig. He’s definitely handsome. And muscular.

“I can see why,” he whispers back. “Though I would rather make him scream himself hoarse.” The noise that comes out of Kiku is a mix between a giggle and a gasp. Ludwig stares at the two of them, perplexed.

“Vhat are jou saying to him?” Kiku hums in thought. After a moment, he brings his mouth back up to Tino’s ear.

“So we’re agreed, then? We try to bring Rudwig into our rerationship?” He nods, laughing a bit when Kiku smiles; it tickles against his ear.

“Oh, nothing much. Just how it would be nice to make you scream as you make Kiku scream.” Ludwig’s face goes pale, then red, then pale again. It stays there for a few seconds, before deciding red is where it wants to be. “We’re polyam, you see. We’ve been looking for a third person to bring into our relationship.”

“We won’t pressure you into it, but the option is there if you wourd rike to take it.” Ludwig stares at them for a long moment, running their words over in his mind. Polyam. Gilbert has taught him about that. It’s not something he’s against, but he never would have thought he would be invited into a relationship. He’s had a mild crush on Kiku for years, but didn’t say anything because he’s with Tino. The Finnish man is attractive enough. A bit chubby, but so is Kiku, though maybe not quite as much. Apparently he has a type. But it’s the other thing he said that brings him pause.

“Vhat do jou mean, make me scream?” Tino’s eyes glint, and he licks his lips.

“I'm not submissive. Not in the least. I don’t plan on ever being submissive. But you still have an opportunity to be dominant.” Kiku perks up, and smiles brightly at him.

“I wirr submit to you! Of course, we aren’t going to be strictry sexuar. We both want someone to be with emotinarry too. Though sex is rather nice.” Tino nods his agreement.

“We want someone to love, more than we want anything else. Think about it. We’ll wait for you, Ludwig.” He winks at him, then gently tugs Kiku elsewhere, so they can finish what they started. The German stares after them, mind racing.

~

“I zink jou should do it.” Gilbert is upside down on the couch, head on the ground and feet dangling over the back, where his head _should_ be. “It’s really eye opening. Jou don’t realize how closed off ze human views ve follow are until jou defy zem. Zis ist ein I vould recommend defying. Ve’re practically immortal beings, Vest. If most humans can’t go zeir lives loving ein, how are ve supposed to? It’s so freeing to be in a non-monogamous relationship. Look at Mathias, Matthieu, und I! Ve’ve never been happier. Ve love each ozer so very much.” His voice clouds over with emotion. “I’m gonna go call zem. I miss zem.” He somersaults off the couch, and practically runs to his room. Ludwig blinks after him. Well, that’s not the answer he was hoping for, but probably the answer he needed.

“I can do zis,” he mumbles to himself, walking to the landline. He knows it’s not very practical nowadays, and he doesn’t use it very often, but this feels like a special moment. One that would be enhanced by one of his special occasion habits. He dials the number to Kiku’s house without a second thought, having memorized it long ago. He just hopes that’s where they’re at today. Thankfully, he’s in luck. The line clicks alive, and Kiku’s voice comes through.

“Herro? Rudwig? Why are you calling the landline?” Ah. He meant to call his cellphone, but that’s not the one he has memorized. “Is something wrong?” He shakes his head quickly.

“Nein! Nozing is vrong. I just… Is Tino zere vith jou?”

“Mm, he is.”

“Can jou put me on speaker?”

“One moment.” There’s a shuffling, and Ludwig takes a deep breath. This is it. This is his opportunity to back down. “Okay. Say what you wanted to.” Or continue forward.

“I’ve zought about jour offer. A lot, if I’m being honest.” It’s been a little over a month since that interaction, and he’s barely slept from thinking about it so often. Mostly, he’s been fantasizing what it would be like. At first, he thought they might all link hands as they walked, but GIlbert informed him that leads to bumping into things. More accurately, they would switch who was in the middle every time. And, though he didn’t want to think about it because of his uncertainty in it, he’s thought about how sex might work. Between him and Kiku, him and Tino, and all three of them. He’s certain all three will leave him feeling safe during such a vulnerable act. That’s something he’s always worried about, at the back of his mind. If he’s safe or not when he’s being vulnerable like that.

“You have?” Tino’s voice asks. It’s a bit further away than Kiku’s, slightly muffled, and his mind immediately goes to the gutter. He’s probably just cuddling a stuffed animal! He doesn’t believe that, but he repeats it to himself mentally.

“Ja. Und…” He can’t bring himself to say it. He so desperately wants to, but he can’t. What if they’ve changed their minds? What if they do get together, and he messes it up?

“Rudwig. If you’re worrying, don’t. We wirr teach you anything you want or need to know. And we haven’t changed our mind. If anything, we want you to join us more.” It’s unfair, how Kiku always knows what he’s thinking. But it settles his unease enough for him to say it.

“I vant to try. Danke for jour vait. I know zat must have been bozersome.”

“Not at all!” Tino’s closer to the phone now, and his mouth is full, which **doesn’t** help Ludwig’s dirty thoughts. “It can take a long time to decide if polyamory is worth trying. I’m just glad you are willing to give it a chance.”

“Hai! I’m happy you want to try! We both are!” He giggles. “We were just about to go on a romantic vacation. Wourd you rike to go with us?” He feels his face heat up. A romantic vacation? He really shouldn’t… He has tons of work to do. But his body tingles warmly at the thought, and he knows there’s no use fighting what he wants.

“Zat sounds wonderful.” He lets himself smile freely for the first time in a long time. Maybe Gilbert is right. Speaking of Gilbert… He rolls his eyes at the music drifting from his room. It’s an incredibly sappy love song, likely coming from Matthieu’s end of the three-way call, but it makes his heart even lighter. The perfect song for the perfect moment.


	3. “I’m sorry I kissed you, my mouth just slipped.” - DenAus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so much fun to write! I’ll have to write more with these two, they’re a cute ship.  
> Warnings: Implied blowjob

Lukas nudges Mathias lightly. He flinches slightly, looking around frantically in confusion. “We’re on break,” he whispers to him. His cheeks flush, and he bows his head. Right. They’re at a World Meeting. That’s the entire reason he had been distracted to begin with. He glances across the table, and frowns when he doesn’t see Roderich there anymore. He hears quiet laughter from Emil to his right.

“I noticed you were staring at-”

“Don’t you _dare_ say it!” He hisses out between his teeth. Emil shrugs, and leans back in his seat.

“Fine, see what I care. But, just so you know, you’re not going to get his attention by staring at him. He’s immune to that. You’re going to have to approach him. Speak with him. And don’t be overly energetic about it, either. I know that may be hard for you, but he’ll appreciate it.” His tone is snarky, but he’s actually giving some good advice. Mathias takes a deep breath, and nods. He can do this! And it’s not like he’s risking too much. He’s definitely seen Roderich stare at him before. He’d like to think that’s from endearment, not annoyance.

“Thanks, little guy!” He ruffles Emil’s hair as he stands.

“ **Don’t** call me that.” Mathias waves his hand at him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You know I only call you that because I love you, right?” He looks back just in time to see him hiding his reddening face. He smiles brightly, and skips over to Ludwig, who’s _not_ MIA. “Luddy! My buddy, my pal, my-”

“Vhat is it jou vant?” He rubs at his temples lightly. He’s got a headache, and he doesn’t need Mathias making it worse for him.

“Right! Do you know where your brother went? Not Gilbert, the other. I forget his name.” He’s got to play it cool. If Ludwig knows he’s after a date, he’ll become defensive.

“Roderich or Vash?”

“Hmm, Roderich sounds about right.” He watches the German close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“He went to get something to eat. I would suggest you do the same.” _And then have a sugar crash, please._ Mathias runs off, much to his relief.

“Roddy, where are you?” He calls out quietly. His stomach flips nervously at the nickname. It’s such a cute thing to call him, but he has to be careful who hears. He doesn’t want anyone to think they’re together. Yet, anyway. Once they’ve actually agreed on a date, then he doesn’t care if anyone knows. But he’ll also abide by Roderich’s wishes. “Roddy! Come out, please.”

“Who on Earth keeps calling me th- oh. It’s you.” He grimaces at Mathias. The Dane doesn’t seem to notice though, as a grin overtakes his face. It’s ridiculously large, but it’s also somewhat charming. Not that he would ever let that thought escape his lips. Oh no, that’s going to stay private forever.

“Roddy! C’mere!” He opens his arms wide. Roderich stares at him, perplexed.

“What are you trying to trick me into doing?” Mathias frowns, arms dropping back to his sides.

“Nothing. I just wanted to hug you.” He looks like he’s about to cry. Against his better judgement, Roderich steps closer to him.

“I will give you a three second hug. No more, and I favour less.” His eyes light up, and he wraps his arms around him tightly. It’s hard to breathe. But what little air he manages to take in smells like barley, fir, and poppies. It makes his head spin. In a good way. “Alright, alright!” He pushes him away gently. “That’s more than eno-” Mathias grabs his chin. “You really don’t know what personal space is, do you?”

“I never noticed how beautiful your eyes are.” Roderich feels his face heat up in a blush.

“Please, release me. If anyone passes by, they may misunderstand the situation.” Mathias steps closer.

“Is that so bad?”

“Yes! Yes it is!” There’s no bite to his words. In fact, he’s relaxing in his grip. And it’s obvious the stupid Dane holding his chin has noticed, because he’s stepping closer again. Roderich opens his mouth to say something, anything, but there’s lips on his before he can speak. Mathias is warm. Too warm, considering his geographical location. It makes Roderich tingle, all the way down to his toes. The blonde yanks himself away, ending to kiss entirely too soon.

“I’m so sorry I kissed you! My mouth just slipped! Well, actually, I slipped, there’s a stupid rug that’s under you but not under me that I didn’t notice and I tripped on the edge of it, I swear I didn’t actually mean to-” Roderich presses their lips together again, effectively silencing him. He’s much better when he’s quiet like this. Attractive, even. Not that he wasn’t attractive before, but his constant talking is rather obnoxious. However, if he has to put up with that for _this_... Well, maybe hearing Mathias talk about nothing but everything isn’t so bad. He’s absolutely marvelous at kissing.

“Shush, for a single moment,” Roderich mumbles against his lips as he pulls away. “Even if it was an accident, I liked the kiss very much. Maybe not as much as I like you, as impossible as that seems. You’re loud, and obnoxious, and your hair is ridiculous, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. You wouldn’t be you. And not being able to see you would make my heart ache.” He takes Mathias’ hands. “Will you stay by my side?” The Dane blinks rapidly at him, obviously confused. When his words register, he gives a wolfish grin.

“Sweet! I came to ask you out on a date, but I got two amazing kisses out of it, *and* a boyfriend! That’s much better than anything I was hoping for!” He pauses, looking down at Roderich. “Whoops, make that three amazing kisses!” He dips him, and kisses him lovingly. He makes a noise of surprise in the back of his throat, and closes his eyes. It isn’t long before Mathias is poking at his mouth with his tongue, wanting in. He gladly parts his lips for him.

~

When the two return to the meeting room, they’re out of breath, their clothes are messed up, Roderich’s hair is slightly fluffy, and Mathias’ hair is laying flat on his head, out of the spikes he normally puts it in. Emil smirks knowingly at him, and starts pestering him the moment he sits down. “Sooooooo, how’d it go? Was it fun, getting laid?”

“We did no such thing!” The Icelander snorts.

“Suuuuuuuure.” Mathias huffs, and looks away from him. He’s telling the truth!

Across the room, Roderich sits next to Ludwig, smoothing his hair down a bit. He feels his brother staring at him curiously, and he lets out a quiet sigh. “No, we didn’t do what you’re thinking.” He flushes at the memory. Curse his strong libido.

“Zen what did jou do?” He stares at the table intently, ears turning red.

“I may have gotten an arousal from him French kissing me, and he may have taken care of it for me.” Ludwig raises a brow, a smirk forming on his lips.

“With his mouth?”

“Don’t tell _anyone_!” He watches him shrug.

“Anyone zat’s observant already knows. Jou tugged on his hair so much, jou changed his hairstyle.” Roderich wants the ground to open up and swallow him. “Good job, Roddy,” Ludwig whispers to him. “Jou managed to tame ze untamable.” He blinks in surprise at him.

“I… did? I suppose I did!” He smiles slightly. “And the untamable is my boyfriend now.”

“I just hope jou returned ze favour to him.” Roderich nearly chokes on his own saliva.

“O-of course I did!” His face is crimson. “I’m not as cruel as you seem to think.”

“I know,” Ludwig ruffles his hair. “Jou have a very kind heart. Ich liebe dich.” He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ich liebe dich auch,” he mumbles out begrudgingly.


	4. Watermelon and Ice Cream - OC x France

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a bit of information to know before going into this. I use two of my OCs, Albert and Alrik. Alrik has his own story coming in a moment, so I’ll describe him there. This one is for Albert. He’s the personification of Stockholm Syndrome (will be abbreviated as SS). This isn’t mentioned in what I wrote, but his mannerisms are directly related to what he personifies. He’s terrified of touching people with bare skin (he doesn’t want to be the cause of someone falling into SS), so it’s an honour if he does. He’s also incredibly cautious of romantic love, because he’s not certain if the person actually loves him, or is just with him because they fell under SS. He’s also very shy and INCREDIBLY soft-spoken. His accent is also stronger than Alrik’s, because he spends more time in Sweden.  
> *This character is not a romanticization of SS, he is a coping character.* I have been put under it. If anyone says him existing is romanticization of SS, you will be blocked. No exceptions. He is very afraid of putting anyone under it, therefore he is not making it seem like this great thing. He hates even saying what he personifies. I repeat, he is NOT romanticizing SS. And no, having a romantic relationship isn’t romanticization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Death threat from an overprotective big brother
> 
> You can find a link to Albert's character form on my Hetalia OC Things work, if you want to know more about him.

Alrik sighs when he hears a knock on the door. _Of course_ someone has to visit when he’s cooking. He sets aside the vegetables he’s in the middle of cutting, and goes to answer the door. He blinks in confusion when he sees Francis standing there, an armful of red roses. He smiles flawlessly at the shorter man, and glances behind him. “Is your brother here?” Alrik scrunches up his nose slightly. It’s weird, seeing Albert accepting affection from someone besides family. But he’s glad he’s happy.

“Berty! Francis is here to see you! I think he wants to take you out on a date!” He narrows his eyes at the Frenchman and lowers his voice. “If you hurt him, I will cut off your dick.” He brandishes the knife in his hand, glad he accidentally brought it from the kitchen. He takes satisfaction from the shudder this elicits from Francis. “And don’t think I won’t do good on that promise. Ja, it’s a promise. If you hurt him even the slightest bit, you won’t _ever_ be able to pleasure yourself again.”

“Rikky, stop threatening him.” Alrik spins around, giving his little brother an innocent smile.

“I wasn’t threatening him!” Albert raises his brows skeptically.

“Then why is he paler than usual?” Alrik shrugs, a movement that’s much more animated than it should be. Albert rolls his eyes, and lets out a quiet laugh. It’s only slightly louder than his voice. He switches gears quickly. “Du brought me flowers?” He smiles sheepishly, and Francis’ heart rate increases. His smile combined with what he’s wearing is almost too much. Not that it’s revealing or anything, he’s just not used to seeing the Sweidsh man in anything besides long sleeves, pants, gloves, and a scarf.

“Oui, of course. Though they aren’t as beautiful as you are.” Alrik fake gags, and practically runs out of the room. Albert blushes, shaking his head.

“I’m not-”

“You are.” He shifts the flowers into one arm, and reaches out with his other. “Can I hold your hand?” He nods, and grabs his hand. He steps closer hesitantly, not daring to look at Francis. “Will you accompany me today? We can go anywhere you want. I just want to spend time with you.” Albert finally looks at him, thinking over the offer. In his silence, he can’t help but focus on their slight height difference. They’re too close for him not to. He’s only a few centimeters taller than Francis, maybe three, but it’s noticeable enough he fixated on it in his nervousness. He looks into his eyes, and his uncertainty melts away. There’s patience in his eyes, something he’s not used to receiving. Most prefer to rush him into an answer, which always gives him anxiety. He’s so very thankful for Francis’ understanding.

“Ja, alright. I think I can handle that.” He gives him a tiny smile. “But I need to change first. I don’t feel comfortable around strangers in this.”

“Of course. Wear what you have to. I want your company, not anything else. But take these. We wouldn’t want them wilting, now would we?” He holds out the bouquet of roses. Albert takes them cautiously, making sure none of the thorns poke him.

“Tack. They’re beautiful. As are you.” He whispers the last sentence as he turns away, hoping he doesn’t hear it. He’s not very good with accepting compliments, but he’s even worse with giving them. He hurries into the kitchen for a vase, pausing when he feels Alrik’s gaze on him. “What is it, Rikky?” He looks at his older brother, who’s—rather unexpectedly—smiling at him.

“You seem happier. I’m glad. I love seeing my little brother smile. And even if I’m not the sole cause as much as I used to be, it’s still a good thing. Maybe even a better thing, because it means you’ve found another person that makes you smile. He’s doing so much good for you. Now give me those flowers, you need to get dressed. Can’t keep your date waiting!” He grabs the flowers, and gently shoves Albert out of the room.

“Alright then,” he mumbles, walking toward his room. He changes out of his T-shirt and capris into a dark blue long sleeved button up, black pants, and light brown knee high boots that he has to spend five minutes putting on. He hops up, grabbing his gloves and his favourite infinity scarf on his way back to Francis. He pulls the scarf over his head, looping it around his neck twice. He tugs his gloves on, and holds out his hand. “I’m ready now. Can we go to a loppis? There’s one nearby that I’ve been wanting to go to, but there’s always so many people.”

“I’ll protect you. Stay as close to me as you wish.” Albert smiles at him, and takes his hand.

“Du have nej idea what a loppis is.”

“I do not. But you’re excited about it, so I’ll take you to one.” The slightly taller man giggles, squeezing his hand.

“You’re too sweet. Okej, let’s go! I’ll direct du.” He nods, letting himself be dragged to his vehicle.

~

It doesn’t take Francis very long to figure out a _loppis_ is very much like his own _vide grenier._ Though this _loppis_ is a permanent thing, according to Albert. Not all are. “I can see why you wanted someone to come with you, mon cher.” He watches his companion blush, then stick his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Just because you’re speaking French doesn’t mean I don’t know what you’re saying. I looked up cute names.”

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I will stop calling you them.”

“Wait.” He squeezes his hand tightly, looking away. “I didn’t say they make me uncomfortable. I don’t mind. Please don’t stop.” He bows his head, not looking at him. Francis smiles slightly, seeing the blush creeping down his neck and up his ears.

“I won’t. I enjoy being able to call you these things.” Albert looks at him, lips parted to say something, but his words never leave his mouth. Instead, he gasps, and picks up an item from a table they’re in the process of passing. It’s a wooden bell, with flowers carved into it. They’re expertly painted, down to the detail of the stamen and anthers. “How much is it?” He asks the seller, already pulling out his wallet.

“One hundred Kronor.” Albert’s eyes widen, and he hugs the bell tightly to his chest. He nods frantically, and reaches for his pocket. Francis grabs his hand again, shaking his head.

“Let me get it for you.” He pulls out the appropriate bills, and hands it to the seller. “Thank you.” He nods his head curtly and walks away, Albert in tow. “Consider it a gift.” The Swedish man grins brightly at him and rings the bell happily, not caring about the strange looks he draws in. Francis’ heart aches with joy at the sight. But something bothers him. “I’m sure you’re warm in that. Is there a place we can get ice cream close by?”

“Ja. But can we get some watermelon first? It’s in season, and I’ve not had any yet.”

“Anything for you. Can I kiss your cheek?” Albert furrows his brows slightly, but he’s smiling. After a moment, he nods. Francis brushes his nose against his cheek, then kisses it.

“That wasn’t part of the agreement,” he huffs out, cheeks tinted pink. “But since du just bought me this lovely bell, du are forgiven.” He rings the bell again, letting out a small giggle at the sound it makes. “I’ve never had a wooden bell. I love it. Tack!” He throws his arms around Francis and hugs him tightly. He returns it, being careful not to overstep his boundaries. When they pull away from each other, they walk back to the vehicle in a comfortable silence.

~

“Watermelon!” Albert practically launches out of the vehicle, into the building. Francis doesn’t bother following after him; he knows he won’t be long. He plays the word over in his mind, smiling at the intensity of it. Normally, he speaks at a level just above a whisper, but he nearly spoke at a normal volume in his excitement. He’s back a few moments later, watermelon slices in hand. He leans back in his seat, and stares straight ahead. “I overdid it. I’m hot now.”

“That’s why we’re going for ice cream.” He pulls back into the road, keeping his eyes out for the stand he saw on their way over. It’s close, but he doesn’t want Albert to have to walk outside anymore. He’s already red in the face, and not from blushing. He turns the vents toward him, hoping that helps at least a little bit. He thanks him quietly, and closes his eyes. He pulls in next to a stand, and reaches for Albert’s hand. “What kind do you want?”

“Tehran if they have it. If not, vanilla. Tack, Francis.” He gives him a weak smile.

“You look miserable. Let me help.” He tugs his scarf off, then his gloves. “Feel better?” A nod. “Good.” He tosses the clothing items in the back seat.

“Tack. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of doing that.”

“You’re overheating, that’s why. You don’t stay out this long in those clothes, do you?”

“Nej. But I wanted to spend the day with du.” Francis scoffs.

“That doesn’t mean you should risk heatstroke! I’ll be right back.” He opens the door and slips out, leaving the vehicle running for the air. He comes back a few minutes later, thankful to see Albert’s moving around a bit. “Thank goodness. I was worried you overdid it.”

“I’m sorry for worrying du. I don’t normally push myself like that. I guess I just lost track of what I could handle.” He looks away. “We should go to a park to eat this. There’s one we can walk to nearby.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” He nods, opening his door. He hesitates for a moment, then grabs a paper bag Francis hadn’t noticed before. He chuckles and turns the vehicle off, putting his keys in his pocket. He gets out as well, making sure to lock the doors. Albert walks ahead a bit, looking back at him every few seconds. When he finds a tree he likes, he sits under it. He places the watermelon and bag aside, and reaches out for the ice cream so Francis can sit next to him without having to worry. “Thank you,” he says as he hands them off.

“I have something to give du after we finish.” He motions at the ice cream, handing one back to the Frenchman. He doesn’t waste any more time, and starts eating his. Francis follows his example.

When they’re finished, Albert opens the watermelon, albeit with a bit of a struggle. He hands a slice to Francis, and bites into his own. It’s the first time he’s seen him be so careless. “Merci.” The Swedish man looks at him with his eyes.

“Hmm?” He’s got his mouth full.

“This is the first time you’ve not been cautious when eating around me. It means a lot to me. I know it takes a lot for you to trust like this.” He swallows the watermelon, blushing hard.

“I thought it was time I did. We’ve been… We’ve had feelings for each other for awhile. I know it can be aggravating to wait for me to be ready for the more romantic things. Showing I’m comfortable enough around du to stop being so conscious of what I’m doing is the least I can do to thank du.” Francis smiles softly.

“You don’t have to do anything for me. But merci. It means a lot.” Albert stares at him for at least a minute, then smiles.

“I want to do things for du. Just as du want to do things for me. Here. I got this for du at the loppis when du weren’t looking.” He hands him the paper bag, then focuses on his watermelon like his life depends on it. Francis opens the bag curiously, being careful of its contents' possible fragility. He stares at the item, awed by it’s delicate beauty. “It’s one of those combs du put in your hair to keep it out of your eyes but also be stylish. I saw it while du were looking at something else and couldn’t resist. The gems match your eyes. She said they’re sapphires and obsidian.” He turns the comb over in his hand, examining it closer. The prongs are silver. There’s a run of sapphires at the top, in the shape of a heart. Obsidians swirl around it, to the outer edges.

“It’s beautiful,” he breathes out. “Merci beaucoup. I love it. I shall cherish it forever.” Albert bows his head more, but he can’t hide his red ears; they poke through his hair. “How much did you pay for it?”

“Actually, I got a hell of a deal! Her ex husband bought it for her, so she wanted to get rid of it pretty badly. She wanted fifty for it, but I insisted on double.” Francis laughs quietly.

“So we wound up paying the same amount for a gift to each other.”

“Ja, we did! I’m surprised, honestly. Both of our items were underpriced. Mine less than yours, but it’s still a beautiful bell.” He frowns suddenly, realizing he left it in the vehicle. After a moment he shrugs, and leans against Francis. “I hope this is okej.”

“It’s better than okay. It’s perfect.” He kisses his forehead. Albert tugs on his arm, and wraps it around his waist.

“Now it’s perfect. Jag älskar dig.” He cuddles up to Francis, closing his eyes in content.

“I love you too.”


	5. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." - OC x South Italy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alrik is the personification of Fika. It’s a wonderful Swedish tradition, I recommend looking into it. He’s loud, expressive, energetic, brash, and a sweetheart (in his own way). However, he’s got sensory overload, which has a big part in this. It’s also important to note Norway gave him a ring after the last coffee ban in Sweden ended, and he wears it on a ribbon around his neck. There’s a significance behind this ring, but it’s not important to this story. Possibly the MOST important thing about this is his main pairing is Italy. He’s absolutely in love with him. BUT I’m also a big fan of alternate pairings, and that’s what this is. If you can’t handle reading bad qualities about him, maybe don’t read this. I had to use those to convince Alrik to choose Lovino (who I’m REALLY starting to love pairing with him, help.) He also doesn’t like that Germany is so close to Italy, so he picks fights. This results in Prussia stepping in like the good big brother he is, and it almost always gets physical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Cussing, beginning of a fight, mentions of wanting to strangle but never doing it, very slight sexual innuendos

Alrik smiles sweetly at Feliciano, waving after him as he leaves. The moment he’s out of sight, his expression falls to one of sorrow. Lovino nudges him, trying to get his attention. “I know you came to visit him, but we can still have fun together, can’t we?” The corners of Alrik’s mouth quirk up slightly, but not enough for it to be a smile. He looks up at the Italian, nodding solemnly. Lovino ruffles his hair, successfully pulling a laugh from him.

“Hey! Stop that! It takes a lot to get my hair to look presentable!” He sticks his tongue out at Lovino, smoothing down his hair in a desperate attempt to fix it.

“I can’t help it. It’s just so tempting. You’re so small!” Alrik huffs loudly through his nose, and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m only about ten centimeters shorter than you!” Lovino raises a brow at him, mouth pulled up into a smirk. “...And five centimeters shorter than Kiku.”

“There it is. You’re _short._ But it’s cute. Don’t ever tell anyone I said that.” His cheeks tint pink, and he looks away. Alrik presses a hand to his mouth.

“Nej one shall ever know. Not even through torture. I’ll take it to my grave!” He falters at the word, but only for a moment.

“I’m not sure anyone would be brave enough to torture you after hearing your growl,” he comments, opening the door to the house. “Let’s play some games or something. It’ll help to take your mind off Vene leaving so soon. I told him you were coming over! I don’t know why he left like that.” Lovino’s curl bobs in annoyance. Alrik catches it between his hands, making sure not to tug on it.

“It’s fine. He’s probably got more important things to do.” He sighs sadly, then shakes his head. “I’m not too upset! I get to play games with my friend! Race you to the couch.” He releases his curl, and takes off.

“That’s not fair! You’re faster than I am!” He runs after him, rolling his eyes when he sees him sprawled on the couch, shoes kicked off and controller in hand. The console is already booting up. “Make yourself at home,” he mumbles, grabbing a controller for himself. He sits next to Alrik, leaning against him slightly. It’s his way of offering comfort without having to say anything embarrassing. Judging by the way Alrik visibly relaxes, it’s working.

~

Lovino groans loudly when his cell phone rings, and pauses their game of Mario Kart. He answers it begrudgingly when he sees who’s calling. “What do you want, Antonio? I’m sort of in the middle of something.”

“Ah, mi amigo! Can you open your door? Francis, Gilbert, and I are coming to visit! Gil says Ludwig went out with your brother, so you’re all alone right now!” Lovino glances at Alrik. Sure. Alone. “We’re less than a minute away, so hurry!” His curl starts to sway with agitation.

“You’ll get the door open when I’m finished jacking off!” He screams into the phone, then hangs up. Alrik snaps his head around to him, eyes wide. “I’m not actually going to, don’t worry. I just wanted to make that asshole uncomfortable. Let’s finish our level.” The shorter man nods, and turns his attention back to the television. He sticks his tongue out slightly in concentration, and Lovino unpauses the game. They both wreck immediately, but get back on course after that. Lovino wins, with Alrik a close second place.

“I’m always so close! Teach me how to winnnnnnnnnn,” he whines out. The Italian chuckles, and stands.

“I wouldn’t be able to win if I taught you how though. I’ll be right back. I have to get the door for Antonio.” He rolls his eyes, and goes toward the door. Alrik puffs his cheeks and sticks his tongue out toward it jokingly. When the door opens, his heart sinks to his feet, and his expression falls into a carefully neutral one. Gilbert sees him before anyone can say a word.

“Vhat ist _he_ doing here!?” He points an accusing finger at Alrik.

“Playing Mario Kart. If you don’t like it, then leave.” He flops onto the couch, feet toward the ceiling and head touching the ground. The air in the room grows tense, and he closes his eyes tightly. He *can’t* face Gilbert without his brother nearby. He knows he won’t stop, unless he’s pulled away from him and restrained. No one needs that today.

“Gil. Non. Take a deep breath.” There’s heavy steps, and Alrik is yanked into a standing position. He sighs, readying himself for a fight. “Gilbert! Listen to me! Your brother isn’t here. Don’t start anything. Don’t let your need to protect him overshadow the fact he’s not even here.” Alrik gives him a pleading look.

“I really don’t want to fight today. Please. I just want to have fun with Lovino.” He lifts the shorter man off the ground, sneering at him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Oh yeah? Vhat are jou going to do?” Alrik growls in the back of his throat. It’s quiet at first, but it quickly gains volume. It sounds just like Berwald’s growl. Gilbert goes pale—well, paler than usual—and throws him to the ground. “Vhat ze hell! Jou’re not a personification! Jou’re a-”

“That’s _enough._ If you’re going to start a fight because he’s here, then you can fucking leave! _You’re_ the one that showed up unannounced! Alrik is supposed to be here! And, if you want to go into even _more_ detail, your brother showed up out of nowhere and whisked my brother away! Alrik came to hang out with _both_ of us! Not just me! So this is your family’s fault!” He shoves a finger in GIlbert’s face. “Got it?”

“G-got it,” he stutters out as he stumbles backwards. Lovino nods in satisfaction, and turns to Alrik. He furrows his brows when he sees he’s still on the ground, face hidden.

“Hey. Are you alright?” He kneels next to him, placing a hand on his back reassuringly. “It’s under control now. No one will hurt you. I promise. If they even try, they’ll have to answer to me.” He sends a glare in Gilbert’s direction. Alrik wiggles his hand off, and curls in tighter on himself. Oh. Shit. “This is your fucking fault, you stupid potato bastard! I hope you know that! No one touch him. I’ll be right back.” He runs to his room, looking around frantically for a comfort object. He grabs one of his pillows, and his blanket. He returns to Alrik’s side, and wraps the blanket around him carefully. “You’re okay. Take deep breaths. Count to ten and back. Focus on things that make you happy.” He keeps his voice a whisper, so as not to overwhelm him anymore.

“What happened?” Lovino decides he’s going to kill Antonio. He places the pillow down, and stalks over to Antonio, yanking him into the kitchen by his ear.

“Your stupid idea of bringing Gilbert here set off his sensory overload, you idiota!”

“He has sensory overload?” Lovino forces himself to take a deep breath instead of strangling him then and there.

“ _Sì._ Do you even know who he is?” Antonio stares at him for a moment, then nods. “Good. At least you’re not completely incompetent. He has sensory overload because of his _past._ Don’t bring it up.” He turns, and walks out of the room. He’s glad to see Alrik sitting on the couch now, blanket wrapped around him and pillow in his arms. He buries his face in the pillow when he sees Lovino, and takes a deep breath. “ _Shit,_ ” Lovino whispers under his breath. Francis takes his wrist and pulls him into the kitchen.

“You have feelings for him, don’t you?” He tenses, and shakes his head frantically. “You’re denying your feelings even though it’s safe to tell me. Why?”

“He has feelings for Vene. I won’t get in the way of that.” Francis stares him down uncomfortably. When he’s sure that’s the reason, he speaks.

“But how does your brother feel about him?”

“I don’t see how that-”

“Lovino.”

“He sees them as close friends. Nothing more. He wouldn’t treat him right anyway! Alrik needs too much reassurance. I love Vene, but he enjoys being the center of attention too much to be able to care for him properly.” He unclenches the fist he hadn’t realized he made.

“And what about you?”

“I think you already know.” He glances toward the couch, even though it’s through a wall.

“I do. You de-escalated the situation, and the moment you knew he was overwhelmed, you got him some comfort items. He’s definitely in love with the wrong Vargas.” Lovino looks away from his intense gaze.

“There’s nothing I can do about it. He’s loved Vene for too long.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. He’s bound to realize you’re better for him sooner or later. Maybe sooner, now that you’ve stood up for him against Gilbert. Those two have had a quarrel going for quite a while. Do you think it could have anything to do with your brother?” Lovino grimaces.

“Probably. They only fight because Alrik upsets Ludwig, and Gilbert’s a protective older brother. He might be picking a fight with Ludwig over…” He can’t finish the sentence. It hurts too much. Francis nods. Instead of continuing the conversation, he pulls him back into the room with the other three.

“I think you should tell him how you feel. You might be surprised with how he responds. Remember, I’m dating his brother. He talks a lot about him.” That only helps to reassure Lovino slightly. But it’s a start, he supposes.

“You four can play. I’ll watch.” He sits next to Alrik, smiling at him when he peeks out. He giggles, and hides his face again.

“We can share a controller. Let’s alternate turns! Then you can show me how to win!” He lifts his head up, and smiles brightly at him. “Unless you want those three to beat us?” He hugs the pillow close. Lovino realizes he’s sitting with his legs crossed, feet tucked under him. He wants to squeeze his thigh, but he doesn’t. That doesn’t stop him from imaging it though. Especially considering Alrik is wearing shorts. They’re not too short, but they’re not too long either. And they’re tight enough his thighs are struggling with being contained by them. This is most noticeable where the shorts end, and there’s a bit of pudge poking out. Tauntingly. He forces himself to look away.

“I’ll teach you how to win against them, but not me. How does that sound?” He nods, humming happily.

“I can deal with that!” He giggles, and leans against Lovino. He hands him the controller, and stares at his hands.

“You need to watch the screen too. I’ll explain it to you.” He ignores the smug expression on Francis’ face. _This doesn’t prove you know anything._

~

“I think you’ve actually gotten worse.” Alrik sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Teach me hands on, then! It’s easier to learn when I’m being controlled.” That statement shoots straight down Lovino’s spine, into his dick. He steadfastly ignores it. Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio all whistle.

“Jou heard him. Control him, Lovi.”

“Oui. He did tell you to, after all.”

“I have to agree with them, mi amigo! There’s only so many ways to interpret that.” He’s going to strangle all three of them. Preferably in their sleep. He glances over at Alrik, whose face is as red as an overripe tomato.

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“I know, I know.” He pulls the Swedish man into a gentle hug. “My _acquaintances_ just like making sex jokes.”

“Ouch. Zat hurts. Jou don’t even consider us friends?” Lovino glares at Gilbert.

“Not if you keep making him uncomfortable.”

“Oh gut. Ve’re still friends, zen!” He blows a playful kiss at him. “Love jou!”

“I’m ignoring you until this next round is over.” He looks at Alrik again. “I’ll help you navigate. Can you press the speed?” He nods happily.

“Mmhmm! I think so! Just tell me if I need to let off!” He crawls into Lovino’s lap, snuggling back into his chest. “So you can move my hands better,” he explains as the Italian’s brain short circuits. He looks at Francis for help, but he’s too busy whispering to Antonio and Gilbert. Probably catching them up on his feelings. Great. He’s _very_ glad he didn’t decide on shorts today. He wouldn’t be able to coax himself into focusing if that were the case. As it is, he’s having trouble navigating them through the selection menu. Alrik smells like coffee, cinnamon, chocolate, and marzipan. It’s overwhelming, but in a good way. Well, maybe not entirely. He wants to taste him now, which is *not* a thought he should be having with Alrik sitting on his lap. “I wanna do Moonview Highway!”

“That one’s got-” He sighs. Alrik’s already picked it. “Traffic in it.” The man on his lap shrugs, and tilts his head back to look at him.

“You can still help me win, can’t you?”

“Of course I can.” He smiles reassuringly at him. “But look back at the screen please.”

“Okej!” He wiggles a bit, obviously excited. Lovino mouths ‘help me’ at the others in the room, but they pretend not to see him. His joking consideration of choking them quickly becomes more serious. The moment the course starts, Alrik has his tongue stuck out in concentration. Thankfully it’s not very distracting. His wiggles because he’s not very good at aiming at the arrows are though. “You stupid arrows! I’m supposed to run over you! Lovi!”

“I’m trying. You have to stop tilting the remote so much. A little goes a long way.” After that, he lets up on turning so much. But his wiggling doesn’t stop. It’s going to be the death of him. He huffs angrily when he comes in fourth, and hands the controller to Lovino, but doesn’t get out of his lap. He leans back against him, flush with his chest. “Are you just going to stay there until you get good enough to beat them?”

“Ja! Of course. I don’t see the point in leaving your lap and coming back a few minutes later. Why not just stay? I promise I won’t get in your way!” _That’s not what I’m worried about._ When the round starts, he quickly figures out his half-erection *isn’t* going to stay a secret for much longer. _Stop moving so much!_ Thankfully, Francis sees his distress, and asks Alrik if he can speak with him alone. Once they’re in the kitchen, he raises a brow at him.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing to Lovino?” He gives him an innocent smile and shakes his head. “I’m not buying that. There’s mischief behind your eyes.”

“Of course I know what I’m doing. I’ve suspected he’s had romantic feelings for me for awhile, but I couldn’t be sure. But then I saw you looking smug that we were so close. I thought for a bit after that. Lovino’s always here for me when Feli hurts me. He doesn’t mean to, but he does. And Lovi’s helped me through more than one Sensory Overload episode. He’s so patient with me. I could never thank him enough for that.” He brings his hand up and tugs lightly on the ring tied around his neck. He bites his bottom lip as well. Both are nervous habits of his. “I dunno. I guess… I guess I thought I should start trying for him instead. But he’s so damn oblivious! That’s something those two have in common.” He grimaces. “I can’t believe I spent all those years loving Feli, when I had someone better for me _right there._ I must be oblivious, too.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Also, you’re telling Lovino how you feel right now. Lovino! Come here, please!” Alrik’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head frantically.

“I-I c-can’t. Please! P-please d-don’t-” Lovino walks into the room. He runs over to Alrik when he sees him, and hugs him tightly.

“Hey. Shh. It’s okay. I’m right here. Use me to ground yourself.” He glares daggers at Francis. “What did you do?”

“I apparently set off his sensory overload? I’m not sure how.”

“Were you distressing him?” Francis bows his head guiltily. “Idiota! That reminds him of the outrage at the coffee bans. He was stressed when it was happening, so it’s an indirect link to his hearing sensory overload. Rik, I’m right here. I won’t let you go. Feel free to squeeze me as tight as you want. Anything to help you calm down.” Alrik takes a few deep breaths, calming down a bit more with each one. “That’s right. A few more. Then look at me.” He takes three more, then focuses on Lovino. “Better?” He nods, giving a tiny smile. “Good.” He pulls away from him, and glares harder at Francis. “ _Why_ were you stressing him out?”

“I think you should tell him that thing we spoke about earlier. The situation has changed.” Lovino looks down at Alrik, and frowns. He wipes away his tears carefully.

“There. All better. It never happened. And I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Francis.”

“Oh for the love of-fine! Have it your way!” He shoves a hand into his pocket, and pulls out some mistletoe. He places it over their heads, staring both of them down. “Kiss. You’ll both enjoy it.”

“Francis, don’t be ridi-” Lovino is cut short by a solid tug on his collar, and lips pressed against his own. It quickly turns to a French kiss. Alrik pulls away much too early, wiping at his mouth.

“Why didn’t you do that to begin with? I swear, I don’t know what my brother sees in you!” He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you’re my boyfriend now, Lovi. If you want to be. Will you be? I would like that very much.”

“If you would like it, then I would be honoured. Why the change of heart?”

“Feli has never looked at me the way you do. And I like having someone that’s able to ground me if I get overwhelmed. I think he would freak out.” Lovino kisses his forehead.

“Perhaps. Thank you for choosing me.” Alrik looks away, cheeks flushed.

“Those aren’t the only reasons I chose you! I’ll tell you the rest when we’re not in the company of a well-meaning idiot.”

“I deserve that. But it got you together, didn’t it?”

“Ja. Now never do it again.” He snarls slightly. “As for us, I think we have a game to play together. Can I stay on your lap? I promise not to move around so much this time.”

“Move around as much as you want. Just don’t complain if you feel something.”

“I won’t.” Alrik takes his hand, and drags him back to the couch. Francis follows after, shaking his head.


	6. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." - Sweden (Violence chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t decide if I regret choosing this topic for this piece, or am appreciative I know more about Swedish history. Maybe a bit of both.  
> I wrote the actual spoken words in Swedish, but translated for most of it. What’s not translated is pretty closely followed with enough detail you can figure out what was said through context clues. Feel free to look it up though!  
> No pairings. Just Sweden.  
> Warnings: Torsåker witch trials. In detail. So, gore warning. This gets intense pretty fast. This is the chapter the violence warning is for.

Berwald stares at the human in shock. Did they… just call him an emotionless monster? No, they couldn’t have! ...Could they? His stomach fills with dread, and he looks away from them. His own citizens think that about him. He’s feared many of the other countries thought that about him for awhile, but none of them could ever hurt him by saying it to his face as much as his own citizens can. He takes a deep breath, and decides walking away is his best choice. However, the human has other plans. “Häxa! Häxa!” They point at Berwald. His body runs cold. _Witch._ “Jag såg honom kidnappa ett barn och äta det!” He has done no such thing! He loves children! He would never kidnap one and… _eat_ it. He shudders at the thought. But it’s too late. A rush of other humans appear out of nowhere, and drag him to the ground. They immobilize him to the best of their ability, and haul him to an area where he’s surrounded by angry men.

He knows this place all too well. He watched them stake seventy-one of their neighbors here a few days ago, with many different weapons. It’s no surprise this is where he was brought. What a cruel twist of fate he wind up here because some human decided they didn’t like his emotionless face. It takes one word being uttered for them to start stabbing him. All of them hurt, but he doesn’t let it show. Let that human die thinking he’s an emotionless monster.

The pitchforks hurt the least. Well, of the ones stabbing him, anyway. They’re meant to be smooth, so they dig into his flesh and come out easily. The wooden stakes hurt the most. They’re covered in flaking wood, and it keeps flaking off into his body when they get pulled out. He’s going to have a hell of a time pulling all of those splinters out later. There’s other weapons, but he’s lost so much blood he can only focus on one other; a shovel. Some are being stabbed into him, and some are being smashed against him. It’s going to be hard to move until those bruises go away. He hopes that doesn’t take too long. After a few minutes more of being beaten and stabbed, he closes his eyes. His body is numb now. He can’t feel anything. Maybe that’s a good thing. He would keep his eyes open, but the sight of his own blood spilling around his feet is more than enough to make him nauseous. The smell isn’t helping.

One particularly rough stab with a pitchfork to his spine makes him kneel. That’s when they stop. Pathetic. They have to bring him to his knees before they feel safe enough to continue. He stands, opening his eyes to glare at them. They’re shouting at him, but he’s lost too much blood to be able to focus on the words. He knows where he’s going anyway. They shove him in the direction, despite his willingness. It’s not like their doing this is going to do anything. Perhaps scar them, but that’s all. He hopes there aren’t any children around. It would be a shame if he had to scar a child because their parent(s) were irresponsible and let them watch a witch burning.

He’s shoved harshly to the ground, on his stomach, and held down by the wrists. He feels the cool metal of an axe press against the back of his neck. They’re lining up to cut his head off. “Jag skulle inte göra det om jag var du. (I wouldn’t do that if I were you.)” They don’t listen. Of course they don’t listen. It’s a threat, coming from someone that’s been deemed a witch. If anything, it’s going to make them go faster. The axe lifts, there’s a small pause that seems to last for an eternity, then it comes down hard, severing his head from his body cleanly. His consciousness fades with that life.

~

When he comes to, his head is surrounded by dying flames. He’s watching the last few minutes of his naked body burning. He hopes whoever took his clothes off hated every moment of it. He lets out a sigh, and wiggles his fingers. It’s weird, watching himself move when his sight is detached from the rest of his body. He lifts one arm up, then the other. At least now he knows his thoughts are enough to control his body without being connected. He’ll have to share that with the other countries. Just in case their citizens decide to do this or something similar to them. He grabs his head, and places it back on his body. That’s when the screaming starts.

He positions his head the best he can, both thankful and unappreciative of the sideways cut to his neck. It helps him line up his head well, but he has to hold it in place to keep it from sliding off. Which means he has no hands to protect himself with if he gets attacked. It’s not likely he will though, since he just came back to life. The human screams louder, and runs off. Where are his glasses? He looks at the ground closely, frowning when he sees them shattered. That’s not too big of an issue, he has a spare pair at home, but he’d feel a lot more confident in himself if he could see on his walk home.

What seems like hundreds of people come out to see what the disturbance is about. They all go pale and start screaming themselves when they see he’s seemingly come back from the dead. Shouts of ‘Häxa! Häxa!’ surround him, but they’re all too afraid to do anything. He doesn’t blame them. He searches the crowd quickly, looking for a familiar, dreadful face. He sneers when he sees it; Laurentius Hornæus. He grabs the man by the collar of his shirt, getting blood all over him. He steadies his head with the hand still pressed against it, and leans in closer. “Du kommer inte att dokumentera något av detta. Förstått? (You will not document any of this. Understood?)” The man nods frantically, face turning almost purple from how frightened he is. “Bra. (Good.)” He shoves the priest away, and stalks out of the town, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He knows he’ll listen. He’s got a _witch_ that doesn’t want to be recorded on his mind. And who knows when said witch might show up again?


	7. Pirates and Mermaids AU - SuFrUk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The amount of research that went into the thought “What if Sweden is (selectively) mute and uses sign language?” is just UGH. Europe’s recorded use of sign language is very lackluster until the 1750′s, and honestly it’s still sparse then. Because I wrote the beginning of this to be at the end of the Golden Age of Piracy, I needed time-appropriate sign language. I spent roughly an hour trying to find it. On the bright side, I now know that Swedish Sign Language likely descended from Old British Sign Language, which is why I use (a form of) it in this. Technically, its use wasn’t recorded until 1760, but I imagine they were using a form of it before then. Cited: “...there is solid evidence that deaf people in Britain were signing as early as in the 16th century...” So, I just gave it a (probably inaccurate) name. I had to. You’ll see why. I do not claim this is the name used at the time. I also used time-appropriate measurements.  
> Fun Fact: Swedish Sign Language didn’t exist until 1800. And it’s currently an endangered language, which is really sad. It’s so beautiful. (Seriously, go look up Swedish Sign Language on YouTube. I recommend watching song translations. They’re captivating. Try Tommy Krångh.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m most definitely turning this into a longer story! This is just highlights, I’ll be adding in more detail as I create chapters.  
> Here's the link to the Cited: https://www.signcommunity.org.uk/a-brief-history-of-british-sign-language-bsl.html

Arthur grimaces when his ship creaks, shifting in the direction of the net his crew cast moments ago. It isn’t an uncommon occurrence, being this far from shore. They often catch larger fish with the net they had stolen from a fishing boat. It feeds them well for a few days, so it’s worth the mess, but the ship tilting and moving everything that isn’t tied down is always obnoxious. “Pull it up! Now!” He doesn’t even give them a second before snapping at them again. “Faster! Don’t let it get away!” There’s not much of a chance of it getting away though. Not unless it has sharp teeth, like a shark. Even then, they panic so much it’s difficult for them to escape. But his crew doesn’t know that. And if any of them do, they don’t dare defy his orders. The net comes out of the water, and he frowns. That’s not a fish. That’s…

“Move! Don’t let its stingers touch you!” Everyone in the line of the moving net runs as far away from it as they can. Thankfully, no one gets stung. Once the net is mostly done swaying, Arthur storms up to the knot holding it and unties it quickly. He’ll wait for the stupid jellyfish to die before tossing it back into the ocean to be eaten by something stupid enough to try. There’s no good meat on it. He steps up next to it and pokes it with his foot, careful not to let it touch any of his skin. It’s huge. The tentacles are roughly three fathoms (18 ft/548.64cm) long, from what he can tell. They’re in a tangled mess he doesn’t envy. They remind him a bit of a lion’s mane.

The creature moves, forcing him to take a few steps back or risk getting stung. Incredibly, a man sits up from within the tangle, not an injury on him. He blinks, looking around in confusion. His face goes pale and he reaches out for the tentacles frantically, pulling them up around himself. He doesn’t appear to be hurt by them. Arthur takes a cautious step closer, intrigued. “Who are you?” He can feel the eyes of his crew on him. The man drops his armload, and his shoulders move up and down in what appears to be a sign, though there’s no noise paired with it. Or maybe he’s not close enough to hear it? There’s not a single mark on him, despite what he did. It becomes apparent to Arthur he’s part of the jellyfish. But how? “What are you?” The man starts moving his hands at an incredibly fast pace, eyes darting around frantically. “I can’t understand you. Can you speak?” He shakes his head, then goes back to moving his hands.

It takes Arthur a few minutes of watching closely to realize it’s sign language. The… jellyfish is repeating the same phrase, over and over and over. He focuses harder on the signs, recognizing some. It’s been a few years since he used sign language, so he’s a bit rusty. But what are the chances this creature would know _his?_

_“Want… let… go.”_ Ah.

“You want us to let you go? I can’t do that. Look at you! You’re a wonderful discovery. No one will believe us without a specimen. And that’s you.” He wiggles a bit, and some of his tentacles lash out at Arthur. He steps back in time for them not to hit his face, but they do manage to hit his hands. He clenches his jaw at the pain, wishing he was wearing his gloves. He hears swords being drawn behind him. “Put them away,” he growls out, glaring at the jelly-man. “No one is to touch him unless told to. We want him alive. Now leaves us alone. Go to the lower decks and prepare a place for him.” His crew hurries to do as they’re told. He looks back at the man. “What’s your name?”

_“B-E-R-W-A-L-D.”_ He signs out the letters begrudgingly.

“Thank you for cooperating. If you keep doing that, I will promise you no harm will come to you. But only if you aren’t difficult.” He fumbles around in a barrel for a moment for something to wrap his hands with. “If that happens, I will not sell you like I currently intend to. I will protect you.” He wraps his hands in some bandages he finds, then glances up at Berwald. He’s signing again, still frantic in his movements. “It has been some years since I last practiced. Go slower.”

_“...Going with you? Where will… stay?”_ It’s still difficult to make out everything, but there’s enough for him to be mostly confident in what he’s saying.

“I’ll have something made for you.” He racks his brain quickly for ideas. He could always use the Roman way. “I’ll have a large pond made for you, supplied with fresh seawater anytime you wish. But that’s only if you aren’t troublesome. Keep that in mind before you do anything.” Berwald nods, then looks around the ship calmly. At least he’s accepted he’s not leaving. There’s so many unanswered questions though! Perhaps he’ll answer some. “As long as we’re answering questions, I have a few for you. If they make you uncomfortable, you do not have to answer. I do not have to know. I am only curious. Answer slowly, if you do. I am still recalling some signs. What are you? Where did you come from? Did you have a home? A family? How come you don’t sting yourself?” Berwald furrows his brows, then lifts up his hands hesitantly. After a moment, he starts signing.

_“...A version of what humans call merfolk. ...Came from the coast of Sweden. Where… now? ...Didn’t have what humans consider a home. Just the ocean. ...Drifted from my family years ago. We don’t keep in touch. Would it make sense for a jellyfish to be able to sting itself? That’s why… don’t. ...May be human in appearance, but… not.”_ Arthur frowns slightly at his answers. No family? What a lonely existence.

“You are close to England. That’s where you’ll be taken back to. If you’re from Sweden, why do you know British Sign Language?”

_“It’s the only thing I could learn.” Finally_ Arthur recognizes all of the signs.

“I suppose that makes sense. Sign Language isn’t very well distributed. Why did you learn it though? You aren’t deaf. You can understand me too well.”

_“You are correct. I am not deaf. However, I am mute. I do not wish to speak of why, so please do not ask.”_ That’s curiosity-inducing. But he’ll obey his wish.

“Alright. You do not have to tell me, but if you ever wish to, I will listen. Watch?” Berwald laughs quietly, a noise that startles Arthur enough for him to jump, which makes him laugh even more. He must be selectively mute, then. It makes him even more eager to learn his story, but he won’t push it. A thought comes to him, and he feels ashamed for not realizing earlier. “Do you need water to survive?” It’s a question he should have asked much sooner.

_“Absolutely. I am made mostly of water. But I can breathe your air, so I do not have to be submerged. I do wish I could have my tentacles flowing in the water again, but I know you will not allow that until I am away from the ocean. After all, I could easily swim away. Well, float away. It is very difficult to swim without the assistance of the current.”_ Arthur furrows his brows slightly.

“It’s not entirely out of the question. If you are willing to be in the net, I can have my crew lower you into the water again. If not, I will personally bring you plenty of water below deck. I do not trust anyone on my crew to. They fear you. However, being afraid of a giant jellyfish is reasonable.” Berwald scrunches up his nose slightly.

_“I am not a fan of this net. It tangled me up. I would rather wait until we get to your home. At least I can untangle them while we travel. How long do you think it will take?”_

“I understand. It will take a week, at most. Usually it would be shorter, but there are a few more stops I wish to make before returning home. I won’t be returning to sea. I’ll have you to take care of.” Berwald turns his head away, hiding his smile. He was worried about the selling comment, but now he knows it’s not true. Not if he’s already planning on taking care of him. He looks back at him, eyes wide.

_“What is your name? You know mine, but you have not told me yours.”_

“My apologies.” He bows his head slightly. “How rude of me. I am Arthur.”

_“Like King Arthur?”_

“Indeed. I am a bit surprised you have heard that tale. You know sign language and of our stories. How often do you watch humans?” Berwald flushes crimson.

_“It is a guilty pleasure of mine. I get lonely very easily. I miss having others to interact with. I suppose that is why I was so close to your lovely ship. It seemed so lively. I did not expect to be captured. Though it isn’t entirely bad I was. I got to meet you.”_ He gives an almost mischievous smile. If Arthur didn’t know any better, he would think the jellyfish is flirting with him. Perhaps he is. But it’s not obvious enough for him to comment on it, lest he be incorrect and embarrass himself.

“That is true. As strange as it has been, I rather enjoyed meeting you as well.” He smiles slightly at him. “Ah, give me a moment. I will get my gloves, then I can help you to where you’ll be staying.” He hurries off, hoping his sleeves won’t ride up while he’s helping.

~ (Five or so days later)

Arthur practically throws himself into Francis’ arms when he opens the door to his house. “Mon dieu! Arthur, you startled me! I’m happy to see you, of course, but you didn’t have to nearly give me a heart attack the moment I opened the door. You could have at least let it register in my mind that you were here.” Despite his condescending words, he wraps his arms around him lovingly.

“I’m sorry. I’m just excited. I have something to show you. Come with me.” He pulls out of the hug gently, hands lingering on his wrists. “On my ship. I’m retiring from pirating because of him. We can finally be together without worry.” He presses a kiss to his lips, then runs off. Francis smiles, shaking his head as he follows. _That man._

“Alright. What is it you wanted me to see? You show up in the middle of the night and drag me to your ship, it better be something interesting!”

“Oh, it is! I promise.” He turns around to press another kiss to his lips, then disappears below deck. Francis rolls his eyes, and opens the door carefully, being quieter than Arthur. He chases after him, laughing at his energy. When he stops, Francis does as well. A subtle movement drags his attention away from his love, and he gasps. There’s an at least partially naked man laying on top of a beautiful jellyfish in a wide but shallow trough, filled with water. Upon closer inspection, he’s _part_ of the jellyfish.

“How…? What?” Arthur grins at him.

“His name is Berwald. He wound up in our fishing net when he got too close. Look at him! Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Oui, and _dangerous!_ How did he get down here?” His love smiles sheepishly.

“I sort of dragged him here? With his permission. I was covered, don’t worry. Clothes are enough of a covering to not be stung.” Francis sighs dramatically.

“I knew it was a terrible idea for you to be pirating this time. You’ve done it twice before, what on Earth was a third time going to do for you?”

“Apparently, give me a giant man-jelly.” Francis groans softly.

“Oui, I see that. Whatever are you going to do with him?” The man shifts again, and his eyes open. They’re stunning. Like stormy sea waves. Their beauty knocks the breath out of him. Berwald’s hands start moving, too fast for Francis to comprehend what’s happening.

_“Who is this? I thought you decided not to sell me? I do not want to leave you! You are my friend! Or so I thought. Why would you sell me without telling me? And in my sleep too!?”_ Arthur slings his arms out.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Berwald! I’m not selling you. I already promised I wouldn’t. I won’t go back on my word. This is my lover, Francis. I wanted you two to meet. I’m sorry for waking you. I didn’t know you were asleep. I should have spoken to you before leaving to get him, instead of just looking at you. That is my fault. We are friends. And I was hoping you two could become friends as well. I did not mean to worry you. I apologize.” Francis watches a bit of colour return to the jelly-man’s face and hears him sigh, presumably in relief.

_“Thank goodness. Your lover, you say? Humans are strange creatures. Though I must admit, this intrigues me. Do humans ever have more than one lover at a time?”_ Arthur stares at Berwald for a long moment. What an interesting question.

“I suppose they can. It is uncommon, but I do not see why they couldn’t.” Francis tugs on his sleeve lightly.

“How are you communicating with him? What did he say?”

“Ah, right. You don’t know British Sign Language. That’s what he’s using. He’s selectively mute. Don’t ask him why, he doesn’t want to tell the story. He may change his mind in the future, but for now, that topic is off limits. Is there anything else you would like to ask him? And he wanted to know if humans ever have more than one lover at a time.” Francis releases his sleeve, and steps closer to the trough. What a fascinating question.

“Berwald, was it?” A nod. “Strange that you have a human name. What are you? Where did you come from?” The jelly stares at Arthur expectantly.

“He’s a version of what humans consider mermaids, and he’s from the coast of Sweden.”

_“You two aren’t humans, are you?”_ Arthur mentally scolds himself. He separated himself from them one too many times in his speech.

“No, we aren’t humans,” he says slowly, making sure to include the topic for Francis’ sake. The Frenchman tenses up, but doesn’t say anything. “We’re actually personifications of countries. I’m England, and he’s France.” His eyes widen slightly.

_“I am Sweden.”_

“Sweden…?” He’s heard about the countries that were mer-creatures, but he never expected to come across one!

“Sweden? Are you Sweden? Now you having a human name makes sense.”

“So your family…?”

_“Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Iceland.”_

“Wow. What are the chances we would meet?” Francis clears his throat quietly. “I’m going to have to teach you British Sign Language, aren't I?”

“If you wish for us to be friends, oui. I do not want you to have to translate everything he says.” He gives Arthur a polite smile, then pecks his lips. “Please teach me.”

“Of course I will. Would you like to come visit? I’m on my way home now. I just had to visit you and tell you the news before going.” Francis laughs.

“Oui, I’ll come visit. Would you be alright with me moving in? Not immediately, of course, but after a few months? Maybe a year? Give you some time to settle back in.” Arthur’s eyes light up, and he hugs his love close.

“That would make me the happiest man in the world!” He laughs, picking Francis up to spin him around. He places him back down, and kisses him again.

“Mmm, as much as I would love to keep doing this, I must return home. You interrupted my beauty sleep! Have a wonderful trip back. Please be safe.” He kisses him on the forehead, then runs off.

~ (Two months later)

The moment Berwald is in his large sea ‘pond’, he shakes his sore muscles out. He looks up at Arthur, and smiles thankfully at him. He propels himself through the water, doing his best to twirl around so he can see him in full. He struggles to the surface, grabbing the edge to keep himself up. Arthur smiles, taking note of the jellyfish bell flaring out around him. That’s something he hadn’t noticed on the ship. It’s maybe a yard and a half in diameter, including where his torso joins with it. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.” He nods, unable to sign because he’s holding himself above water. “Good. It was hell getting that made, and getting you in it without anyone seeing you. Thankfully, no one did. I will admit, at first I wanted to sell tickets for people to see you. But now, I want you to be a secret. I would have offered to release you back into the sea, but I didn’t want you getting lonely again. And… we’re friends. Don’t tell anyone, but I actually care about you. And I would hate to lose you. So don’t ever scare me by disappearing!” Berwald smiles fondly, and reaches out for Arthur’s hand. He squeezes it, then kisses the back of it. He pulls away, and looks him in the eyes.

_“I promise, friend.”_ The relief in Arthur’s eyes is overwhelming. He waves awkwardly at him and sinks back down into the water, just as Francis comes out of the house.

“There you are! Did he make it in okay? He’s not hurt, is he?”

“He’s fine, love. And no one saw. He’s safe here.” He motions at the tall fence surrounding the yard.

“Good. I’m glad.” He glances at the water, giving a small smile to Berwald. “I made us some food. All three of us. Can we have a picnic? Then you can teach me some signs. I’m more than ready to learn.”

~ (1800)

For the past few weeks, Berwald’s signing has gradually gotten harder and harder to interpret. Arthur always manages to figure out what he’s trying to say, but it’s incredibly concerning. He’s not entirely certain why it’s changing, though he has an idea. Instead of trying to figure out discreetly, he decides to outright say it one day when he goes to feed him. “Is Sweden developing its own sign language? Yours has gotten harder and harder to understand, and that’s the only thing I can think of.” He frowns, brows furrowed. He stays like that for maybe five minutes, before carefully lifting a hand to sign.

_“Perhaps. I am a bit upset it is changing. When it is done, will you teach me British Sign Language again? I will know both then.”_ Arthur chuckles.

“You don’t need to ask. I am glad you want to know both though. Waiting until it has developed is probably the best idea. You won’t get them confused then.” Berwald nods, and slips back into the water. He lifts a hand up to sign at Arthur.

_“That is exactly what I was thinking. Now excuse me, I saw a fish. It must have gotten mixed in with the water when you changed it.”_ The Brit laughs, watching him chase after the fish. Maybe he’ll start gathering live fish to put in there with him. It might make him happier.

~(1850’s)

“Arthur! Arthur, look!” Francis stumbles out the back door, newspaper in hand. “It’s possible to make larger aquariums than we previously thought! Perhaps we could have one made for Berwald? That way he doesn’t have to lift himself out of the water to communicate with us. We’ll be able to see him anywhere! Doesn’t that sound exciting?” Arthur places a hand on either shoulder, and kisses Francis’ nose.

“That does sound exciting. I’m sure Berwald is tired of communicating with one hand. It is a good idea. I will look into it tomorrow. However, won’t you sit and have a nice meal with us?”

“Oui! I would never pass up a meal with my two favourite boys.” He kisses Arthur on the forehead, then kneels to do the same thing to Berwald. A question the jelly-man asked years ago is brought back to Arthur’s mind. _Do humans ever have more than one lover at a time?_ After a moment of thought, he lands on a similar answer to what he gave last time. _They can._

~ (A few months later)

Arthur tilts the barrel with all his might, nearly falling into the newly-filled tank when Berwald slips out. He heaves a huge sigh, unsure if it’s from relief or lack of oxygen from the nerves. He makes his way back to the ground, grateful for the solidness of it. He doesn’t look at the huge tank quite yet. “Francis.” He loops an arm around his waist, closing his eyes as he turns toward the glass.

“On the count of three?”

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!” They say it together, and open their eyes. Both of them gasp, _finally_ seeing Berwald surrounded in water from the side for the first time since making his acquaintance. His tentacles are billowing out around him, moving slightly with the gentle current they decided to have installed. His torso is stockier and chubbier than they thought, but neither is complaining. His shoulders are broad, and his arms long and toned. His blonde hair shimmers in the light refracting through the water from the ceiling of the building. He’s an absolutely stunning sight.

“Goodness, Arthur! He’s beautiful!” Francis steps closer to the glass, placing his hand on it gently.

“He is.” He walks up next to his love, but doesn't touch the glass. Berwald lets himself sink to the bottom, and places his hand where Francis’ is. He smiles brightly at them, eyes crinkling at the edges because of it. “Very beautiful. Berwald, can you hear us?” He laughs, a sound that, surprisingly, reaches their ears.

_“Yes! I can hear you better than I could before! It’s like I’m back in the ocean! Except I have friends to keep me company! And human food to eat! I couldn’t be happier! Thank you!”_ His expression is full of excitement as he signs.

“You’re very welcome, dear. It’s the least we can do. You’ve been so wonderful and understanding. I’m glad we can bring you company.” Francis replies, placing his other hand on the glass. Berwald eagerly mirrors that as well. “You mean a lot to us.” Arthur smiles, nodding his agreement.

“You do. Francis, is it time?”

“Oui, I think so!” Berwald tilts his head slightly, obviously confused. He doesn’t pull away from Francis to sign though.

“Do you recall asking me if humans ever have more than one lover at a time?” He nods slowly, confusion still dancing in his eyes.

“Arthur and I have decided we both love you very much, and would like to ask if you will be our lover?”

“It can be the three of us in a relationship. We’ll be more than friends. It might be a bit strange, but we’re willing to try. We love you enough to try.” The confusion finally falls away, and he pushes himself back from the glass. He grabs two of his tentacles, and focuses on putting them over his head in a shape of some sort. Oh! It’s a heart!

_“I love you both too. My answer is yes.”_ He smiles at them, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“Please don’t cry! Even if they’re happy tears. You’ll get me going too.” Francis dabs at his eyes as if he’s already crying. Then, he grabs Arthur’s hand and presses his palm flat against the glass. “Show your love, Arthur. I already have. It’s your turn.” The Brit rolls his eyes, but places his other hand on the glass nonetheless. Berwald matches him, grinning. After a moment, he scrunches up his nose and sticks his tongue out.

“Hey! Put that back! No fair! I can’t kiss you until you stop out here.” Not even that is enough to dampen his mood though. He’s over the moon with joy. Judging by the expression on Francis’ face, so is he. And Berwald, too. He moves his arm over a bit, motioning at Francis to put his hand there. He does, and Arthur takes his other hand. In their own way, they’re making a circle of love.

~ (Early 1960’s)

Arthur _never_ thought he would be thanking Alfred for anything, but here he is. Incredibly grateful to one of his inventors, for making a suit he and Francis can actually visit with Berwald in without fear of getting stung. Well, mostly. Their faces will still be exposed, and they need gloves and boots, but those aren’t too difficult to get a hold of. “Berwald! We’re coming!” Francis laughs, grabbing him by the waist.

“You’re too excited, mon cher. You might startle him. Take a few deep breaths to calm down before entering the water with him. I’ll count. Let’s start with five. One.” Arthur takes a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before releasing it. “Two.” He feels himself relaxing slightly as he holds this one. “Three.” His muscles untense, though he was unaware they were. “Four.” His excitement becomes a dull ache. “Five.” Now it’s no longer an ache, more like a happy memory. “Better?” He nods, then kisses him in thanks.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just wanted to be close to him for so long.”

“As have I. But he is still part animal. He has those instincts. We should try our hardest not to spook him, oui?”

“You’re right. I should have thought of that.”

“Nonsense. You’re excited. That’s completely fine. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed. Are you ready?” He nods, and starts climbing the ladder up to the top of the tank. Francis follows close behind. He doesn’t get in the water yet, despite drawing Berwald’s curiosity. He sits on the rim, smiling down at him.

“We’re coming in. Finally, we get to be by your side. We’ll have to come to the surface for air quite often though, so could you stay near the top? If that’s possible. I know the current circulates the entire tank.” He nods, looking just as excited as Arthur feels. Francis sits next to him, and squeezes his hand.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” They look at each other, count to three together, and slide into the water after taking a deep breath. The goggles were a good call. They may not be perfect, but they’re much better than without them. Berwald struggles against the current to swim toward them, desperation in his eyes. They meet in the middle, and practically melt into one another. By the time Francis goes to pull away for a breath, they breach the surface. Apparently Berwald got them closer without either realizing.

“Merci,” Francis practically whispers, lost in his eyes. Arthur nudges him lightly. “Ah, oui! Berwald, may I kiss you? You’ve seen Arthur and I do it bef-” He presses his lips to Francis’ tenderly, effectively silencing him. The Frenchman closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around his neck. After maybe two minutes, they pull away from each other. Berwald looks at Arthur with a questioning expression. He rolls his eyes, pecks a pouting Francis on the lips, then kisses the Swedish man lovingly. Berwald must be counting, because he pulls away at nearly the same time as he did from Francis.

_“You are both wonderful at that. I am very grateful to have you. You have taught me so many things, and with those clothes, you can teach me more. Thank you so much. I love you.”_

“I love you too,” they say in sync. Then, looking at each other, “And you!” They laugh, and kiss each other. Berwald presses his nose to Arthur’s cheek when they part, and kisses him again. He does the same to Francis when their kiss is over. His heart is so full yet so light. He’s never felt this way before. He loves it. Almost as much as he loves Arthur and Francis.


	8. Aquarium - SuNor, DenFin, IceMano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon that Sweden has social anxiety.  
> Warnings: Cussing, light hearted/joking death threat  
> Soft reminder that the age of consent is 15 in Iceland, and 14 in Italy. (Yes, this is mostly aimed at any American readers.) Iceland is 16-17, and South Italy is 22-23. I saw talk of a ten-year gap for Iceland, but I couldn’t figure out if it was law or not. Either way, they fall into this rule.

Berwald frantically reaches for his boyfriend’s hand, and squeezes it hard when he has hold of it. Luaks glances at him and gives him the smallest hint of a smile. It’s enough to fill his stomach with butterflies, which does a good job of distracting him from his anxiety. Lukas squeezes his hand back when he sees him relax, a gesture that is as much a reward as it is a show of how proud he is of Berwald. He knows how hard it is for him to be around strangers, even if no one is paying attention to him. “Takk for coming with us, Ber. Mathias insisted it wouldn’t be the same without you.” Said man appears beside them and throws an arm around Berwald’s shoulder. Speak of the devil.

“Of course it wouldn’t be the same without you! We love you.” Tino comes up beside him, rolling his eyes. “But nothing could rival my love for you!” He releases Berwald, and wraps his arms around Tino eagerly. The Finnish man gives a sigh, then pecks his lips.

“Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you.” Mathias grins at him.

“You love me.”

“Fortunately for you I do. So very much.” He wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him down for a deeper kiss.

“ _Some_ of us are actually trying to look at the fish. Can you not make out next to them? It’s startling.” Mathias presses closer to his lover and Emil fake gags, turning away from them. He looks into the closest tank, and flinches back when he comes face to face with a Green Moray Eel with an open mouth. Lovino, who was about to take his hand, falls into a fit of laughter. Emil bristles slightly, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Hmph! I see how it is! Well, I won’t comfort you when a shark decides to charge your stupidly handsome face!” Lovino raises a brow at him, then winks. His face turns crimson, but he doesn’t move.

“Are you sure you want a shark to think I’m handsome? They might steal me away.” Emil huffs, grabs his hand, and squeezes it tightly.

“They will not! I won’t let that happen. I _will_ punch and or fight a shark if I have to!” Mathias jerks away from Tino.

“Nej! Don’t you dare!” He lowers his voice so the humans around them can’t hear him. “This is my aquarium, I won’t let you hurt anything living here. And that goes for anywhere in my country. And… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Fine. Your flirty sharks get to continue on without knowing pain.” Lovino chuckles, then ruffles his hair. Emil sends him a light hearted glare, and grabs his hand. “I won’t let them flirt with you. I’ll show them that you’re _my_ boyfriend.” After a moment of staring at each other they laugh, knowing he’s joking. He may be childish, but he knows acting like he owns someone is a bad thing to do. Lovino brushes their noses together, squeezes his hand, and points at one of the fish coming closer to them, looking curious. Wanting to impress his boyfriend, Emil puffs out his chest a bit, stares at the fish for a moment, then tells him what it is. “That’s a porcupinefish, or blowfish. It can also be referred to as a balloonfish or a globefish. Sometimes they are called pufferfish, but this fish isn’t what most think of when they say ‘pufferfish.’ They belong to a different family.” Lovino stares at him, obviously impressed. Mathias gives him a weird look, and he blushes again. “...Or something like that. Like I would know about a fish.”

“I love your random knowledge, Emmy. Please don’t take it back or downplay it.” Emil scowls at him, cheeks turning crimson.

“I told you not to call me that,” he grumbles, burying his face in his chest. Lovino runs a hand through his hair, smirking. Mathias gives him a high five. Lukas shakes his head at them.

“I won’t ever embarrass you on purpose like that,” he whispers to Berwald. “Not unless you want me to.” The Swede nods, barely hearing him. He’s staring at a different tank, watching an octopus move their arms about. Lukas notices and walks him over there, shielding him from the crowd. “There. Now you can look closer.” Berwald nods excitedly, gives him a bright smile that lasts maybe a second, and focuses on the arms. The octopus waves a few about for a moment, then starts crawling over the rocks on the bottom. They disappear into a crevice, which causes Berwald to frown slightly. “Let’s look at the seahorses, Ber,” Lukas suggests quietly, already leading him toward them. His attention is quickly diverted to them, thankfully.

“Look h’w beat’ful th’y are,” he mumbles. “B’t n’t as beaut’ful as du,” he looks at Lukas. He immediately turns his head away, trying to hide his blush.

“Don’t say that out of nowhere like that.” He scoffs, and Berwald squeezes his hand lightly in apology. “I suppose it’s fine this time. But don’t do it again.” They both know he likes it.

“Ja, okej,” he says to tease him. He doesn’t fall for it.

“Good.” A thick silence falls over them. It’s a matter of who breaks first now, and Lukas knows Berwald’s biggest weaknesses. “Because if you did, I would have to make coffee for you in the morning. Oh, and breakfast. Then we would have to have a Fika together later in the day. Then we’d have to go to bed tangled in the blankets, cuddling fiercely. We wouldn’t want to have to do that, now would we?” Berwald lets out a tiny, nearly impossible to hear whine.

“Nej fair.” Lukas smirks at him. He looks back at the seahorses, trying his hardest to ignore him. It’s not working. His hair clip keeps distracting him. It’s slightly crooked. He has to fix it. He turns toward him, and straightens out the clip. Lukas gets on his tip toes and kisses his forehead in response.

“Takk. Jeg elsker deg.” Berwald’s cheeks tint pink.

“Jag älskar dig med.”

“You are aware this means you lose, right?”

Ja.” Lukas laughs. Mathias bounds over, Emil and Lovino in tow. Tino follows after, smiling at his boyfriend’s antics.

“Berry, there’s a touch tank! We have to pet some of the fish!” He grabs his wrist and drags him to the touch tank. “Look how pretty they are! Oooooh this one is colourful!” He dips his hand in the water, and slowly reaches toward one of the fish. He laughs a bit when his fingers brush against it. They are informed it’s a Japanese Pinecone Fish. Tino puts his hand in the water next, lightly running his fingers over a Thicklip Grey Mullet.

“You’re such a charming fish,” he murmurs. A soft, loving smile plays at Mathias’ lips. Lovino looks into the tank next, curiosity shining in his eyes. He lightly touches a Blackbelt Hogfish, smiling at the big eyes. He beams at Emil, reaching out his other hand encouragingly. The younger man shakes his head quickly.

“I will not touch a fish that I could scare away.” Despite his words, he peers into the tank. After a moment, he caresses a Black Sea Cucumber. “It tickles,” he hums to himself, smiling brightly. Lovino watches him affectionately. Lukas’ eyes dart around, looking for a new fish to touch. Berwald sticks his hand in the water, and a Damselfish willingly swims up to it. He runs his fingers delicately along their body, biting his lip to keep his smile in check. Lukas’ heart fills with joy at the sight. Then, he does the same as Berwald, allowing a fish to come up to him. A Two-Banded Seabream nibbles at his fingers, and he giggles. He pets the fish, who eagerly accepts his affection.

“You’re very cute. Almost as cute as my Ber.” He watches his boyfriend turn red. They stay there until another group comes up, forcing them to leave for Berwald’s safety. Their next stop is the gift shop, which is thankfully mostly devoid of other people.

“Look at all the stuffed animals!” Mathias practically runs to the wall full of them. Tino watches him for a moment to make sure he’s not going to knock anything down, then examines the shark teeth necklaces. Lovino discreetly grabs a Green Moray Eel plush, and shoves it toward Emil. He squeaks, too scared to make any noise. After a few shallow breaths, he’s glaring so hard Lukas wonders if Lovino is losing years from his life.

“You absolute asshole! You scared the shit out of me!” He places a hand on his chest, taking deeper breaths. Lovino puts the eel back, snickering a bit as he turns back to Emil.

“I would apologize, but I’d be afraid you would call it fishy.” He holds up a clownfish plushie.

“I am going to strangle you for that joke,” he grumbles as he pulls him in for a kiss. Lukas shakes his head and saunters over to Berwald, who’s investigating the “An Ocean of Plastic” area. He takes his hand, squeezing it when he feels how stiff he is.

“I won’t let anyone get close to you. I promise.” He nods, relaxing a bit. His eyes catch on an otter plush, and he shuffles toward it. When he’s close enough, he snatches it and hugs it tightly to his chest. “Do you want that?” He nods frantically, hugging it tighter.

“H’s n’me is L’kas.”

“Is it? I’m honored.” Berwald shyly wraps an arm around his waist.

“B’t he’s n’t as imp’rtant.” He buries his nose in his hair. Lukas starts rocking them slightly, knowing it will help his love calm down. “Tack.” When he’s settled down a bit more, he goes to a jewelry display. He picks out a golden seahorse hair clip, and an intricate octopus choker made to look like a baby octopus is clinging onto the neck. Its eyes are made of purple sapphire, and the tentacles are carved silver. He determines they’re perfect for Lukas, therefore he’s getting them.

“Mathias. Decide on one. You can’t take home ten stuffed animals.”

“But I want them all!” Tino raises his brows. “Please?” He sighs defeatedly.

“You can get what you can carry. No more.” He’s too lenient. But seeing his smile is more than worth it.

“Oh! And I picked out a shark tooth necklace for you! I saw you looking at them.” He flushes a bit. “I noticed you didn’t actually get one, so I thought I would make it special.” He holds out one of them shyly. Tino carefully takes it then pulls him in for a kiss, causing him to drop his armful of plushies. “And this pretty violet shark is for you! It’s exactly the shade of your eyes.”

Emil groans loudly when Lovino wraps an alligator plush around his neck. “Absolutely _not._ You are not getting that. Don’t make me deal with it.” Lovino chuckles, putting it back.

“I was joking anyway. I really want this.” He holds up a Love Pearl kit. “I was hoping we could pick one out for each other.” Emil’s face softens. “This isn’t because I like the idea! I just thought you might.” He blushes hard. “And I picked out a dragon for you too. Because the bastards remind me of you. Fiery and protective.” Emil hugs him tightly.

“I picked out a jellyfish plush for you. They remind me of you. Dangerous if not handled with care.” Lovino’s face rivals a tomato now. Emil kisses both of his cheeks, then starts going through the Love Pearl collection.

As they leave, they discuss how they weren’t kicked out, despite being a bit rowdy at points. When they make it back home, they break off into couples. Berwald puts the jewelry on Lukas excitedly, smiling at how amazing he looks in it. Mathias insists on putting Tino’s necklace on him, and purposefully drops it down his shirt so he can fetch it. Lovino and Emil open their Love Pearls, both complaining about the process and the necklaces they chose for each other; a unicorn for Lovino, and a flamingo for Emil. Lovino gets a white pearl for health, and Emil gets a cream pearl for happiness. They all agree they had a wonderful day.


End file.
